


Helpless

by Nightwang



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Tim Drake, Rape Aftermath, Victim Blaming, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 05:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20989895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwang/pseuds/Nightwang
Summary: ‘“What do you want?” Nightwing snapped.The mercenary smirked. “You.”Tim’s stomach dropped.’Slade makes a deal.





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Please mind the tags this is fairly graphic. If I’ve forgotten any tags please let me know I’ll be happy to add any! Thanks!

“This is it.” Nightwing said, looking up at the warehouse dubiously. “Vorras’ last known location.”

Tim didn’t like this one bit. They’d been chasing Nathaniel Vorras for almost a month now. He was a bit of a rising star in Gotham’s underworld: a drug dealer who was making a name for himself, importing huge amounts of heavy drugs into Gotham and selling them to anyone who would take them, including kids.

They’d gathered enough evidence to put him away for a long time and then about a week ago he’d vanished entirely. This was the last place he’d been seen, apparently. A shitty warehouse in the middle of an abandoned industrial complex.

“We should go in.” Nightwing said, finally, already moving towards the warehouse. “Stay sharp Red.” 

Tim nodded, although Nightwing couldn’t see it, falling into step behind him. The door had been left open so it was almost laughably easy to slip inside. Too easy. Alarms blared in Tim’s head, cold unease creeping through his stomach. Inside, the warehouse was empty save for some old pipes running along one wall. There was none of the industrial debris Tim was expecting, no scrap metal or slumbering machines or shelves piled high with stock. There weren’t even any crates. Something was definitely wrong.

The lights came on with a clang. Nightwing and Tim both whirled to face the opposite door. Tim’s bo staff was a comforting weight in his hands. Nightwing had pulled his escrima sticks as well, poised in a fighting stance.

“Just me little birds.” A familiar voice called and Tim’s heart sank. Why was Slade here? Nothing good ever came from Slade’s presence. Whatever he was here for, Tim wanted no part in it.

“What are you doing here Slade?” Nightwing asked.

“So suspicious.” Slade purred, stalking towards them. “I want to help you.” 

Tim snorted. Slade ignored him, his eye fixed intently on Nightwing.

“Help?” Nightwing scoffed. He didn’t relax from his defensive position.

“I heard you were looking for someone.” 

The mercenary drew something from his pocket and flicked it onto the floor in front of them. Tim’s grip tightened on his bo staff as Nightwing inched forwards to pick it up.

“It’s Vorras,” Nightwing said flatly.

“What?”

Tim couldn’t help glancing over. It wasn’t immediately clear what he was looking at. The picture was dark and grainy, hard to make out. There was a man kneeling on the floor, a heavy chain manacled around his neck, his arms pinned behind him. His head was tilted to look up at the camera and his face, contorted in obvious fear, was familiar. Nathaniel Vorras.

“What is this?” Dick demanded. 

Slade smiled, slow and lazy.

“That’s who you’re looking for right? Nathaniel Vorras, known drug dealer.” He tipped his head towards the picture. “I’ve got him.”

“Great, well that solves our problem then,” Tim said, harshly. “Vorras is off the streets. Have fun with him.”

“I’ve got a contract for him. I’m supposed to torture him for a bit.” Slade made a ticking motion with his finger, like he was checking off a list. “And then I’m supposed to kill him.”

Tim could almost hear Nightwing grinding his teeth. “Why are you telling us this?”

Slade shrugged.

“Well I know how much you hate it when people get killed and I have good reason to believe I’m going to be double crossed anyway so this gives you a rare opportunity.”

Nightwing eyed him suspiciously. “What opportunity?”

“To save him. I don’t care if Vorras lives or dies, but I’m guessing you do. I can let him go, I’ll even drop him off at the police station for you.”

“What do you want?” Tim asked. “Money?”

Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Suspicion sank through Tim’s gut like a stone. Whatever Slade wanted, Tim wasn’t going to like it.

“Take off your masks,” Slade said, instead of answering. 

And Tim knew that Slade knew their identities already, but removing his mask in front of anyone still felt wrong, a violation of all of Batman’s rules and protocols. Tim hesitated, wanting to refuse. But Nightwing was already peeling his domino away with an aggrieved sigh, turning to look at Tim expectantly.

“Fine.” Tim snapped, pulling his own off before he could think better of it. He felt oddly vulnerable without it, especially when Slade looked them both over, gaze lingering for a fraction too long.

“That’s better. Now we can talk business.”

“What do you want?” Nightwing snapped.

The mercenary smirked. “You.” 

Tim’s stomach dropped.

“I’m a little old to be your apprentice don’t you think Slade?” Nightwing was frowning now.

“You misunderstand me.” Slade’s voice was low and deceptively warm. “Although I wouldn’t mind having you as my apprentice again, I meant it more...literally.”

It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Tim, with dawning horror, suddenly knew exactly what Slade wanted. Nightwing, on the other hand, was still blissfully oblivious.

“Just spit it out!”

“I want to fuck you.”

“No.” Tim said it automatically. That wasn’t going to happen. No way. 

Both Slade and Dick ignored him completely. Slade was watching Nightwing intently, his gaze almost burning. Dick’s mouth had dropped open in surprise.

“Right here, right now and I drop Vorras off at the police station alive. Otherwise…” he let the threat hang there.

“No.” Tim said again. He didn’t like the queasy look on Dick’s face. Liked that he seemed to be considering it even less. “No fucking way!”

“You don’t want to be responsible for his death do you?” Slade said, as if he hadn’t heard Tim speak. As if Tim wasn’t even there. 

Dick ground his teeth together, asked: “What about Tim?” without looking at him.

“He can watch.” Slade said, grinning.

“No…” Dick snapped.

For one, dizzying moment, Tim felt almost sick with relief. Then: “No. I’ll do it but Tim has to leave.”

“This isn’t a negotiation Grayson. I don’t particularly want anymore bats crashing the party. Tiny Tim stays and that’s that.”

Tim felt a little like he was losing his goddamn mind. “Dick you can’t be serious. This isn’t going to happen!” 

Dick finally met his eyes. Guilt was painted across his face so clearly that Tim’s stomach lurched.

“Sorry Timbo.” He said softly. 

Slade grinned and clapped his hands together.

“Excellent!” He proclaimed. 

Tim shook his head desperately. “No!” 

He threw himself at Slade, swinging his bo staff, catching the mercenary by surprise. There was no time to block, instead Slade twisted so that the staff caught his shoulder rather than his head. Slade grunted. Reached up and grabbed the staff, pulling Tim in to deliver a sharp punch to his jaw. Tim reeled back, his head ringing, falling into a defensive stance. Slade looked irritated.

A foot hooked around his ankle whilst a hand grabbed his shoulder and then Tim was falling backwards. Dick pinned him. Tim looked up at him in surprise but his face was turned away, watching as Slade approached, rope in his hands. He tossed it at Dick.

“Tie him up, there’s some old pipes over there that should be strong enough.”

Tim struggled half heartedly. But he wasn’t a match for Nightwing and Slade together, and besides, he didn’t want to hurt Dick.

Dick looked apologetic as he tied Tim to the pipes, securely, his arms outstretched and the rope tight enough to hurt slightly.

“Sorry.” Dick said again, stepping back to the center of the room.

“Don’t do this Dick please! Vorras isn’t worth it.” Tim was almost begging at this point. 

Slade tutted and pushed his way into Tim’s personal space.

“Enough of that now,” he said, shoving a cloth gag into Tim’s mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. 

Tim glared at him. What he wouldn’t give for Superman’s heat vision right now, or just Superman himself. Slade gave him a wry smile and then half turned to look at Dick.

Tim tugged experimentally at the ropes. They were tight on his wrists, biting into his skin. When he noticed him squirming, Slade shot him a look and Tim met his gaze evenly, tugged again just to spite him. Slade huffed but turned away. He stalked closer to Dick, looking like a predator closing in on a kill. Tim shivered.

Slade stopped close enough to Dick that he had to tilt his head back just to look at his face. Stood next to each other like that Tim realised just how big Slade was. He towered over Dick, dwarfing him with his body. Dick met his gaze coolly. He didn’t look intimidated by Slade’s posturing. If he was scared of what was to come he didn’t show it at all. Tim was terrified enough for the both of them. His heart was racing, he was almost sure that Slade, at least, could hear the pounding.

Slade smirked, reaching forwards to cup Dick’s jaw. His hand almost spanned the entirety of Dick’s face. He leant down so that their lips were almost touching, breathing in the same air.

“I’ve waited a long time for this.” He purred. 

Dick stiffened. Then Slade was closing the last bit of distance between them, pressing his lips against Dick’s. Tim made a muffled noise of protest through the gag, which went ignored. The kiss started off surprisingly gentle. Slade coaxed Dick’s mouth open carefully, then Tim saw a flash of pink as he slipped his tongue in. Dick remained resolutely stiff, eyes open and glaring a hole through Slade’s face. After an agonisingly long moment of this, Slade pulled back with an annoyed huff.

“You’ll have to do better than that kid.” He growled. Dick looked furious, but pushed himself onto his toes to slam his mouth against Slade’s. This time the kiss was messier, a clash of tongues and spit as Dick gave as good as he got. Slade chuckled lowly against his mouth. Then he dragged his hand down from his jaw to toy with the neck of Dick’s suit.

“Take this off.” 

His voice was low, aroused. The sound of it made Tim shudder. Dick stepped back from Slade, took a deep breath and began stripping, quick and efficient. Slade watched him with a smug, satisfied look on his face, his single eye tracing each scar on Dick’s skin as it was revealed to him. Finally, Dick stood before him, completely naked. He looked vulnerable in a way that Tim had never seen before, despite having seen Dick naked countless times, in the showers after patrol. And yet his face was set, determined. Tim’s chest ached for him.

Slade moved close again and Dick stiffened, his head tilted up to glare into Slade’s face. Slade brushed a large hand over his jaw and then lower to wrap around his throat. Tim could see Dick swallow almost compulsively. Slade grinned cruelly. His hand tightened briefly and Dick’s eyes widened on reflex. His lips curled up in a snarl, which just made Slade’s grin widen. His other hand came up to smooth down Dick’s chest, a thumb brushing over his nipple. Dick shivered.

“Get on with it.” Dick growled. 

Slade raised an eyebrow and then twisted Dick’s nipple sharply.

“Settle down boy.” he purred. 

Tim’s heart was pounding. He wished DIck wouldn’t antagonise Slade. At the same time he agreed with Dick, he wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

Dick’s eyes were bright, his whole being radiating fury. Slade on the other hand was radiating smugness. He rested a hand against the small of Dick’s back and pressed him closer to his body. Dick went reluctantly, his lip curling in distaste. He looked...small, vulnerable, held naked against Slade’s larger, fully armoured chest. The gloved hand on his back slipped lower, teasing between Dick’s cheeks. Dick snarled and moved to pull away but Slade tightened his grip, his expression switching in an instant to something more serious, dangerous.

Dick stilled. Tim knew it wasn’t the implied threat to himself that kept Dick there. Slade bent and bit his lower lip roughly, growling into his mouth.

“Get on your knees.” 

Dick obeyed slowly, folding to his knees with a grace that any other time Tim would have envied. Slade fisted a hand into Dick’s hair roughly and yanked his head back. Dick grimaced at the strain on his neck but otherwise didn’t react. Tim’s own scalp prickled in sympathy. Slade grinned down at Dick. Tim imagined that it couldn’t be a particularly flattering angle for him. He pulled Dick closer by his hair, knocking him off balance and pressing his face into his crotch. Dick automatically brought his hands up to catch himself on Slade’s thighs but he knocked them away easily.

“Ah ah.” He said snidely. “No hands Grayson.” 

He pushed Dick away just enough that he could unzip himself. The sound was disturbingly loud in the quiet of the warehouse. When Slade pulled himself out, he was already hard and huge. Dick’s eyes widened at the sight. Tim’s heartbeat was so loud in his ears that he almost missed what Slade said next. “Get on with it then kid.”

Dick swallowed nervously before steeling himself. He leant forwards as much as Slade’s hold in his hair would allow and licked at the straining red tip. He made a face at the taste. Slade chuckled and then eased Dick closer. Dick’s lips parted reluctantly to take him in. Slade rocked his hips gently with a moan, his cock bulging Dick’s cheek out. 

“Suck,” Slade ordered. 

Dick’s eyelashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes up to glare at Slade. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked hard. Slade pushed on the back of his head roughly, bucking up at the same time and Dick choked, his throat spasming. Slade groaned thickly. He held Dick there for a long moment, long enough that Dick’s face went red, his eyes watering. Slade ground in till Dick’s chin was pressed into his open zipper. Dick’s hands came up, in what looked like an unconscious move, to shove at Slade’s hips.

Tim’s wrists stung. He realised, belatedly, that he was straining against the ropes, his protests muffled by the gag. Neither Slade nor Dick seemed to hear him. Dick was _suffocating_ and Slade didn’t even seem to care. He was going to kill him.

Dick made a high whining noise and then Slade was shoving him off and away. Dick fell back with a pained gasp, coughing and choking. His eyes were running, his chin wet with saliva. Slade laughed, his cock jutting out proudly, red and glistening.

Slade followed Dick down, pushing him so that he was spread out on his back and blanketing him with his much larger body.

Dick was trembling. He met Slade’s eye, his jaw set determinedly. Slade licked a long line up Dick’s throat and nipped sharply at his jaw. He pushed Dick’s legs open wider with his knees, thighs flexing with the effort when Dick instinctively went to push his legs closed. Slade positioned against him and Dick tensed. Slade looked up at Tim. Tim’s throat felt hot. He glared back at Slade, trying to convey all his hatred for the man. Slade leant over Dick and licked into his mouth, eye still fixed on Tim. Tim felt sick. Furious.

Slade pushed in with a sharp moan and Dick cried out, back arching. His hands came up to push weakly against Slade’s chest in what looked like a reflexive action. Slade gripped his wrists together in one huge hand and pressed them into the floor above Dick’s head. Dick gasped and squirmed, trying to tug his arms free, but Slade was immovable. He pushed all the way in and Dick whined before he bit down on his lip to silence himself, hard enough that blood welled from the wound. Slade gripped his chin with his free hand and pushed his face to the side so that he was looking directly at Tim. Dick squeezed his eyes shut almost immediately but not before Tim saw the pain, the _fear_ in his eyes. Something hot, almost painful, swelled in the back of Tim’s throat and pushed behind his eyes. Slade moved his hand from Dick’s face down to his thigh. He gripped it bruisingly tight and pushed it out from his body in a move that might have dislocated his hip if Dick had been any less flexible. Then he started to move.

Tim wanted to look away, but at that moment Slade looked up and locked gazes with Tim. He grinned, sharp and feral and gave a rough thrust that had Dick whining. Rage burnt in Tim’s chest and he snarled around the gag. Dick flinched at the sound, as though he was more bothered by the fact that Tim was there than by what Slade was actually doing.

Both Dick and Slade were weirdly quiet through the rape. Dick savaged his lower lip, his jaw clenched tightly. His face was screwed up in pain and yet he refused to make any more noise. Slade, for his part, went about it with a brutal efficiency, as though this was nothing more than a mission for him, his grip tight and his thrusts punishing.

After what seemed like forever Slade shifted slightly and Dick gasped, his eyes flying open. His lashes were wet. With a start, Tim realised that his own cheeks were wet. He hadn’t realised he’d been crying. Slade chuckled lowly and the sound made both Dick and Tim shudder in revulsion. The next couple of thrusts were at the same angle, gentler now. Dick whined, his face panicked and Tim had a sudden swooping moment of realisation. For one drawn out moment he thought he was going to be sick. He swallowed desperately. If he threw up now he was likely to choke on it. Slade laughed. He let go of Dick’s leg to reach between them, stroking Dick in time with his thrusts. Dick kicked uselessly against the floor, his expression desperate. Slade looked up at Tim with a smug smirk, and winked. At least, Tim assumed he was winking, with only one eye, it was hard to tell. Tim growled, fury burning him up from inside.

Dick made a horrible whining choking noise that Tim knew was going to haunt him for the rest of his life, and came all over Slade’s fist and stomach. Slade made a low, satisfied noise. He reached up and pushed his slick fingers into Dick’s slack mouth, rubbing them against his tongue. Dick didn’t react, laying limp and pliant against the floor. Fear curdled in Tim’s stomach. Slade moaned lowly and moved both his hands to Dick’s hips, tilting them up and pounding in harder and faster. Despite his arms now being free Dick didn’t move them. He was being jerked roughly across the floor with each of Slade’s thrusts. Slade growled, his hips stuttering. He slammed in hard one last time and came with a roar, bending over Dick and burying his teeth deep into the meat of his shoulder. He held himself there for a long moment and then moved to stand up. Dick winced as he pulled out.

Slade tucked himself back into his uniform and watched Dick for a long moment before turning to look at Tim instead.

“Well, this was fun Batbrats. I’ll keep up my end of the bargain.” 

Slade gave Dick a critical once over. He was still lying on the floor where Slade had left him, legs splayed and arms over his head. For a moment Slade had the audacity to look worried. Then he strode over to Tim and tore off the gag. It pulled away from his tongue painfully where his dry mouth had caused it to stick. As soon as it was loose Tim’s stomach rebelled and he threw up. Slade side-stepped the mess neatly, clucking his tongue. He pulled a knife and sliced through the rope around his wrists. Tim fell forwards. His body was trembling with rage and fear, and his legs wouldn’t support him. Slade caught his shoulder easily, preventing him from falling face first into the puddle of vomit. Tim jerked away with a snarl, his skin crawling where Slade had touched him.

“Next time I see you I’ll fucking kill you,” he whispered. 

And he meant it too. Fuck Bruce and his no killing rule. Slade deserved to be six feet under. Slade only laughed, stepping back with his hands raised.

“I’d like to see you try.” 

That stupid, smug smile was back on his face. He turned back to Dick and Tim followed his gaze, fear making his stomach buck again. Dick had managed to get to his knees at least, a pained grimace on his face. Tim rushed forwards to help him, crouching beside him. When he looked back over his shoulder Slade had gone. Dick was trembling, but Tim wasn’t much better. He reached towards him and then hesitated, unsure if Dick would want to be touched.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out without Tim meaning them too. His voice was thick with tears. 

Dick looked up at him in surprise. “What for? Tim I’m the one who should be sorry!” he said. 

Tim jerked, horrified.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Dick!” 

It was maybe too harsh, the anger he felt colouring his tone, because Dick flinched away from him. Tim stared at him. He tried not to notice the blood and other fluids on his legs, the hand shaped bruises on his thigh, his hips, his wrists, the bloody bite mark on his shoulder that Tim was sure would scar. But in doing that it was all he could see. Suddenly, he was sobbing again. Dick gave him a soft look and reached up to cup his cheek gently.

“Let’s go home Tim.” he said softly. 

Tim nodded and carefully reached up to lay his own hand over Dick’s.

“Can you walk?” Tim asked. 

Dick nodded but he didn’t look very sure of himself. Tim got the impression that he was just saying he could to save face. Tim stood and rested his hand gently on Dick’s shoulder, his chest clenching when Dick flinched at the touch. 

“Hang on a second.” 

They had come on foot and Tim didn’t know if Dick would be able to walk back on his own. Besides, it might have been selfish but Tim didn’t want to deal with this alone. He wanted Bruce. He touched the comm in his ear. It crackled to life and Tim almost cried as Batman’s voice came over the line. He was talking to Robin. It probably hadn’t even been that long, despite Tim feeling like he’d aged a decade.

“Tim?” Dick’s voice was tinged with panic. Tim spun around, heart leaping to his throat. Dick’s face was alarmed. “What are you- don’t- I mean-” he shut his eyes, and took a long, slow breath. 

Tim waited, his heart fluttering against his ribs but Dick seemed to have run out of steam.

“Dick?” he tried. 

Dick huffed. When he opened his eyes Tim was struck by the fear in them, the shame. His face flushed and he looked down at the floor, trembling slightly. Tim started towards him almost unconsciously.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” 

The words were so quiet that Tim almost didn’t hear them. They brought him up short, standing awkwardly in front of Dick. He crouched down, trying to catch Dick’s eyes.

“Dick, you have nothing to be ashamed of. This wasn’t your fault.” he tried. 

Dick was still resolutely avoiding looking at him. The grim determination he’d worn during his rape had bled away. He was red and shaking. He seemed more afraid of anyone finding out about what happened then he had been of Slade. Tim hesitated. 

“Please Dick, I don’t think we can get home by ourselves. We need help.” 

Dick grimaced. Tim could see that Dick agreed, to an extent.

“Please don’t- don’t tell Bruce.” His voice broke on Bruce’s name.

Tim winced. He didn’t want to hurt Dick further, but he desperately wanted Bruce there. Or Alfred, or anyone really.

“I need to call someone, we need a car or a bike. Or, or something.” he trailed off. 

They sat in miserable silence for a long moment. Batman and Robin’s voices were a low hum in Tim’s ear as he desperately thought of what to do. Red Hood’s low rumble carried across the comm and Tim started. He hadn’t realised that Jason had been patrolling tonight.

“What if I call Hood?” Tim tried, hesitantly. 

Dick grimaced, but Tim could see him considering it. Calling Jason for help was always a bit of a risk, but he’d been much more involved with the family recently, and besides Tim knew that in a situation like this Jason would be willing to help. The alternative was to call Bruce, or God forbid, to call Damian. Dick shifted uncomfortably, wincing in pain, and that seemed to decide it for him. Tim was about to make the call regardless when Dick nodded. He didn’t look very happy about it.

Tim activated the private channel to Hood’s helmet. He didn’t think he’d ever used it before. He wasn’t sure it even worked, or that Jason would even answer.

“Hood?” He tried tentatively. 

There was a long silence in which Tim kind of thought he might cry before Jason’s voice crackled to life in his ear.

“Replacement? What do you want? Why are we on private?” He sounded disgruntled and slightly out of breath, like he’d just come out of a fight. 

Tim swallowed thickly. He glanced at Dick. He was resolutely avoiding Tim’s eyes. He was still naked, shivering slightly in the chill of the room. Tim cursed himself, he should have grabbed Nightwing’s suit first. He was doing this all wrong.

“Replacement?” Jason’s voice jolted him back. Tim needed to get a hold of himself.

“Yeah, sorry….um Wing’s hurt. We need a pick up, and-and don’t tell Bruce.” He tried to keep the quiver out of his voice. Judging by the stiffening of Dick’s shoulders and the silence over the comm line, he hadn’t been very successful.

“Where are you?” Jason said after an agonisingly long silence. 

Tim huffed out a breath of relief and then gave him the coordinates. Jason didn’t press for any details, just gave a gruff confirmation and then cut the line.

Dick had wrapped his arms around himself in an uncharacteristically shy pose. Tim grabbed his discarded uniform and then draped it across his lap, giving him some privacy. Dick unwrapped his arms to grip his uniform tightly, his knuckles turning white, but otherwise he didn’t react. Tim cleared his throat softly.

“Do you…” He trailed off uncertainly. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say. Tim had come across rape victims before of course, but never anyone he knew personally, never his brother. “Hood’s coming. Do you-do you want help getting your suit on?”

Dick stared blankly at the fabric gripped in his fingers. He shook his head, but didn’t move. Tim made to get up but Dick reached out and grabbed his arm, tight enough to bruise. He nodded stiffly.

“Okay.” Tim said. His voice was wobbling. 

He gently tugged Dick’s suit out of his hands and then helped him stand, desperately trying to ignore Dick’s pained winces. His hands shook as he pulled the suit up over Dick’s bruised, blood-stained thighs. He had to take a deep, calming breath before helping Dick with the rest of his suit.

Once he was dressed again Dick looked like he felt a little better. He seemed to gather everything up and tuck it all away. He gave Tim a shaky smile. His face was pale and sweaty. Tim scrubbed a hand across his own cheeks. They were tacky and itchy with dried tears.

Dick reached out and gripped Tim’s shoulders, pulling him forwards into a loose hug. Tim tucked his face into Dick’s shoulder, hiding his surprise. Dick smelt like sweat and sex and his hands were still shaking against Tim’s back.

“I’m sorry.” Dick murmured. 

Tim squeezed him gently.

“Shut up.” He croaked. 

Dick huffed out a laugh. He was leaning on Tim now. The sound of a bike engine interrupted them. Dick sighed and pulled away, straightening up with a wince. He fixed a smile onto his face. Tim positioned himself close to Dick’s side in case he needed to lean on him.

Jason came in with his gun out and his helmet on. Tim waved at him.

“Just us Hood. You can put the gun away.” 

To his surprise, Jason holstered his gun without complaint and came to stand in front of them.

“What happened?” The mechanical voice gave nothing away. Hood was unreadable with his helmet on.

“Slade.” Tim spat the name out, curling his hands into fists. 

Beside him Dick flinched. Hood reached up and pulled his helmet off. He was wearing a domino underneath but Tim could tell that he was giving Dick a once over.

“Slade? You hurt Wing?” He glanced at Tim and then stepped towards Dick.

“I’m fine,” Dick sighed. 

Tim ground his teeth together hard. He wanted to just tell Jason everything but it wasn’t up to him. Jason scoffed.

“So you’re fine but you needed me to come and get you?” He looked over at Tim, his gaze lingering on the bruise Tim knew must be forming on his jaw. “If you’re really fine I guess I can just leave you here and get back to patrol?”

Dick grimaced and for a moment Tim was worried that he was going to call Jason’s bluff and let him leave. Then he let out a huge sigh and seemed to deflate, tipping over to lean against Tim’s shoulder.

“No please don’t leave,” he said quietly. 

Jason folded his arms over his chest. The silence stretched on.

“You don’t look hurt.” Hood said eventually.

Pain flashed across Dick’s face for a moment, before he squeezed his eyes tight shut.

“We were looking for Vorras.” He started. Tim’s heart was racing. “We’d found some clues that indicated he’d been here the night before he vanished and when we got here…” he swallowed heavily. “Slade was here, waiting for us. He had Vorras in some torture chamber somewhere. He was going to kill him for some contract but had heard we were looking for him. He said maybe I could change his mind.” He went quiet. Jason looked confused.

“Why would you care? Vorras was a scumbag, having Slade kill him would solve our problem.”

Dick’s head snapped up to glare at him. “What? No Hood! It doesn’t matter if he’s a bad guy or not we don’t kill and we don’t let other people kill either.”

Jason scowled. He looked like he wanted to argue but was holding back for the sake of finding out what had happened. “Fine. So what - you fought him?” 

Dick looked like he had wanted an argument as well. “No we didn’t fight him. Even if we had won Slade never would have told us where Vorras was. He was as good as dead.”

“Okay, so what did he want? Money?” Jason looked like he was getting frustrated. It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d paid Slade off, it wasn’t like they were short of money, but Jason obviously knew it couldn’t be that simple or they wouldn’t have needed Jason to come get them. Dick leant against Tim more, sagging. He looked exhausted.

“He wanted me to have sex with him.” Dick said quietly. 

There was a long, ringing silence.

“What?” Jason said, low and dangerous. Tim winced. Dick didn’t say anything, his mouth a grim line. “And you said…?” he looked like he knew what Dick had said but was desperately hoping he was wrong.

“I said yes obviously.” Dick snapped. His eyes were red. Jason’s hands were clenched so tightly that Tim could hear the leather creak.

“So he raped you.” Jason said flatly. 

Dick made a sound like he’d been punched and staggered upright. Tim felt oddly light without his weight against him.

“No!” Dick gasped. “No he didn’t r- it wasn’t- I mean I said yes!”

“To save that scumbag Vorras! Slade knew you’d say yes! Not that he was fucking worth it.” He muttered the last part. “He raped you!” Jason was red faced now. Shaking with anger. He turned on Tim. “And you just let this happen?!”

Tim flushed. His own anger was rising fast. “Of course not! I tried to stop him and they tied me up!”

“They?” Jason asked. 

Dick looked guilty and then irritated. “It was my decision to make!” He snarled. “Look can we have this argument later. I just want to go home.”

Tim looked at him. He’d gotten even paler. He looked clammy and sick. Jason must have noticed too because he shut up and just nodded.

“There’s only the one bike, but I’m sure we can all fit on. Tim’s pretty small right?”

“Hey!” Tim said. Jason ignored him.

“Where are we going Wing? The manor?” He asked gently and Dick grimaced.

“No.” He said quickly. “I don’t want Bruce to know.”

“Why? You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Tim said again. 

He wanted to go back to the manor. Selfishly he wanted Bruce and Alfred to take over. Bruce may be emotionally constipated but Alfred would know what to do, hopefully. 

Jason remained blessedly silent. No doubt he wouldn’t want to go back to the manor either.

“I just want to go back to my apartment. In Bludhaven.” Dick said.

“That’s a fair drive. You gonna be okay?” Jason said, not unkindly.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go.” 

As if to prove a point he pushed past Jason, moving to the door. Tim’s chest clenched at the limp that he tried to cover up. Jason grimaced and followed him. When he caught up he wrapped a supporting arm around Dick’s waist and Dick flinched, but then leaned against him gratefully. Tim scurried after them.

It was cold and bleak outside. Tim followed Jason to his motorbike. Jason put his helmet back on and straddled his bike.

“I haven’t got any spares.” He muttered as Dick and Tim just kind of stood there. “Might be easier if Tim gets on the back.” 

Dick hesitated, looking a little sick, before clambering on behind Jason with none of his usual grace. Tim eyed the space behind him dubiously.

“I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He said. Jason turned to, presumably, glare at him. It was hard to tell with the helmet on.

“Just get on Replacement. It’s a long drive to Bludhaven and I’m not coming back just to pick your skinny ass up.” Jason growled. 

Tim didn’t say that he could make it back to the manor fine by himself now - after all, Tim wasn’t injured and they were still in Gotham - Jason obviously didn’t want him to leave, and it felt selfish running back to the manor now. He heaved a sigh and climbed onto the back of the bike. There was not a lot of room. Jason’s bike was really only made for one person and neither Jason nor Dick were particularly small.

Tim pressed himself up against Dick gingerly, trying to ignore the way he stiffened when Tim wrapped his arms around his waist. There was going to have to be a lot of touching if they all wanted to make it back in one piece. Dick probably would have done better on the end rather than squished in between him and Jason, but he also probably would have fallen straight off.

“Good to go?” Jason called over his shoulder. 

The bike hummed to life underneath them and then Jason was off without waiting for an answer. Tim clung onto Dick for dear life, his fear of becoming road kill overriding any concern for how Dick would take it.

All things considered the ride wasn’t that bad. Jason was careful, unlike usual, but then if he hadn’t have been, Tim, at least, would have ended up squashed on the tarmac. They stopped in an alley behind Dick’s apartment. As soon as the bike stopped Tim tumbled off onto the ground dramatically. He barely refrained from kissing the dirt.

“Never again!” He hissed. “Next time I’m walking to Bludhaven.” 

Dick laughed at him. Jason pulled his helmet off just so Tim could see him rolling his eyes.

“You lived bitch.” He grumped. 

Dick, still looking amused, slipped off the bike with slightly more grace than Tim, but not much. His face twisted with pain before he managed to school his expression, leaning back against the still warm metal of the bike.

“So this place got a back entrance or something?” Jason asked, hopping off the bike after him.

“I usually go in through the window.” Dick said, pointing up at one of the few windows that faced into the alley. There was a thin ledge that looked like it might just support Dick’s weight. Tim eyed it critically. “I’ve got alarms set up so I’ll grapple up there and open it and then you guys can come up afterwards.”

Tim and Jason shared a look but Dick was already pulling out his grapple and firing. His movements were stiff as he pulled himself up to the window but he didn’t topple off so Tim counted it as a win. After a few moments he pushed the window open and slipped inside.

“After you.” Jason said with a dramatic flourish. 

Tim rolled his eyes but pulled out his own grapple. Moments later he was landing in Dick’s apartment. He almost collided with Dick, who was stood just inside staring into the dark of the room.

“Dick?” He asked softly and then grunted as Jason slammed into his back, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” Jason said, untangling himself and then pulling Tim to his feet. “Why were you standing right in the way Replacement?”

Tim gestured at Dick who still hadn’t moved. Jason touched his arm gently.

“You okay Big Bird?” He asked. 

Dick shuddered and turned to face him. Tim turned the light on, bathing the room. Dick’s eyes were red and wet.

“Yeah m’gonna shower.” He mumbled but still didn’t move.

“You need some help?” Tim asked hesitantly.

“Can you unzip me?” He asked. 

Tim never understood why he had the zipper at the back. Dick was flexible enough that he could usually get it done by himself, but if he was hurt and stiff… Tim stepped forward and carefully pulled the zipper down, revealing the long expanse of Dick’s back. His suit fell open a little and Tim winced at Jason’s ragged gasp when he caught a glimpse of the bite mark on Dick’s shoulder. It had stopped bleeding but only just and the surrounding skin was covered with flaky dried blood and wet smears. Dick pulled the suit up to cover it reflexively. Jason hissed out a long breath.

“I’m going to kill that bastard.” He growled, low and serious. 

Tim silently agreed. Dick shook his head, his face blanching and then stumbled towards the bathroom. He slammed the door shut. Tim tried to ignore the sound of vomiting.

He flopped onto Dick’s couch, covering his face with an arm. The cushions dipped as Jason sat next to him with a heavy sigh.

“You okay Timbo?” He asked quietly. 

Tim ignored him for a long moment. Was _he_ okay? It didn’t really seem important when he could still hear Dick being violently ill in the bathroom.

“No.” He said finally, dragging his arm down to look at Jason. He’d finally taken his domino off. He looked tired. “I just… why did he let him…” 

Tim trailed off. He felt guilty as soon as he’d said it. He knew exactly why Dick had said yes. Knew that in Dick’s mind he didn’t have any choice and that, knowing Slade, he would have manipulated Dick into it somehow anyway. It still stung though, that he’d had to sit there and watch Slade rape him, and that he hadn’t been able to help him.

“It’s not his fault.” Jason said.

“I know that!” Tim snapped irritated. “It’s Slade’s fault but-“

“No.” Jason interrupted him. “I mean yes obviously it’s Slade’s fault, but...it’s Bruce’s too.” Tim’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What?” He choked out. Jason was getting angry again, his eyes blazing.

“The only reason Dick said yes was because of Bruce! Because of his fucked up no killing rule!”

Tim hated that what Jason was saying felt true. It felt like a betrayal, of Bruce, of Dick, of his own ideals. Tim believed in Bruce’s no killing rule, believed that Bruce was right. And yet if it had been Tim in that position today he knew what he would have said.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said now. “It happened. And Dick doesn’t want Bruce to know.” 

Jason looked mutinous for a moment, then sank back into the cushions with a sigh. They sat in silence listening to the hum of the shower.

When Dick finally emerged it had been almost an hour and Tim was on edge. Dick was red skinned, like he’d had the water just a shade too hot and he looked exhausted. He was wearing sweatpants and an oversized jumper that had obviously belonged to someone else before him, maybe Bruce. Tim’s chest ached at the thought. A white dressing peaked out from the neck of his jumper where Tim knew the bite was. He was holding himself stiffly.

“I’m gonna go to bed.” He said looking awkward as he dithered in the hallway.

“Want us to go?” Jason offered gently. 

Tim didn’t know if he’d make it back to the manor if Dick said yes, his own aches and pains had made themselves known now that the adrenaline had worn off. He could probably sleep for a week. Dick shook his head looking shy.

“Would you stay?” He asked hesitantly.

“Sure thing Wing.”

Jason shrugged out of his jacket and started unclipping his gun holsters. Dick disappeared into his room and was back a moment later, a bundle of clothes in his arms. Tim took his, then retreated to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were soft and comfortable, if slightly big on Tim. He pulled the drawstrings tight and rolled the bottom of the legs up. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked terrible. There were dark shadows under his eyes and the pale pallor of his skin made the bruise on his jaw stand out starkly, a mottled smudge of purple. He splashed his face quickly.

By the time he was done Jason had already changed and made himself comfortable on the couch. Tim wouldn’t be surprised if he started snoring. Dick smiled at Tim from the doorway to his room.

“You can share with me if you want. Or I’ve probably got a sleeping bag around here somewhere.” He sounded almost cautiously hopeful, like he was ready to be disappointed. Tim wasn’t quite sure if he wanted him to opt for the sleeping bag or not.

“I don’t mind sharing.” Tim said. 

Dick smiled and though it was small it looked genuine. Tim followed him into his room and then awkwardly climbed into his double bed.

“Be warned, I've been told I’m a bit of a blanket hog.” Dick said as he got in the other side. Tim laughed, which made Dick smile wider. “Night Timbo.” 

Then he turned off the light.

“Night Dick.” Tim replied. 

In the dark, listening to the soft sounds of someone else breathing Tim felt almost like a child again. Like one of those rare times that his parents had let him crawl into bed with them after a nightmare. 

“Dick,” he whispered. Dick hummed and rolled over to face him. Tim could just make out the gleam of his eyes in the dark. “Are you okay?” He felt stupid and childish saying it. Of course Dick wasn’t okay.

He was surprised when Dick sighed and then reached out and grabbed him, pulling Tim closer till they were basically cuddling, Tim’s head tucked under Dick’s chin.

“No I’m not.” Dick said quietly, reluctantly. His arms squeezed Tim tighter against him. “But I will be.” He said eventually. 

It sounded like a promise.


End file.
